Read Online Love and Robotics by Rachael Eyre - Free Book Online Page B

but she wouldn’t have it. It’s given him unforgivably bad taste in literature. I’d like to see how a robot given quality literature might develop, or one who’d never seen a book.”
    No one could blame Josh for being bored. Taking Alfred’s nod as assent, Sugar wittered on.
    “It’s taken a while, but he has a fully working brain. We’ve spent the last year bringing him up to speed. Chronologically he’s two and a half, but he has the reasoning powers of a highly intelligent adult, bar the odd gap.”
    Alfred reached for his hipflask, remembered it was in the vix and tried to look as though he was leaning nonchalantly against a pillar. “You could say that about some humans.”
    “Precisely. We don’t want to make him too much of a prodigy.” Was it coincidence his eyes flicked to Fisk, speaking regrettably loudly and clearly to a foreign diplomat?
    “What will you use him for?”
    “Depends what his skills are.”
    “Is it too much to hope he’ll have a career?”
    “Oh, no! Lots of robots work. We’re in correspondence with an artificial in Arkan; she works as a singer. We should get them together.”
    He was holding forth about robots with jobs, Alfred wondering if Josh would have any say in the matter, when somebody toppled into the doctor’s back.
    “Would you mind where you’re - Oh. Your Grace.” Sugar dropped into a sexless obeisance.
    “That will do,” the Queen said. His back creaked as he straightened up. “Model yourself on Langton. He’s barely exerted himself.”
    “Charmed, ma’am.” Alfred gave the briefest, curtest of bows.
    “What brings you here, you roué? I wouldn’t have thought this was your scene.”
    Sugar pretended someone wanted him on the other side of the room and left Alfred with the sovereign. She wore a severe dress in her favourite shade of arsenic green, swung the crocodile handbag she was never without. Needle sharp eyes darted in the heavily rouged face.
    “Reminding people I’m alive,” he said carelessly.
    “That never used to concern you.”
    “I’ve turned over a new leaf.”
    “If I know you, the reason’s a whom, not a why.”
    He thought he would change the subject. “What do you think of all this?”
    “You know I can’t comment. It’s too close to politics.”
    “Off the record, then.”
    A brilliant smile. “You won’t catch me out. How’s that housekeeper of yours?”
    An embarrassed grin as they remembered the last time she and Nanny met. Alfred’s old butler Tolmash had mistaken the Queen’s room for Nanny’s during a house party; he’d died on top of her. Alfred and Nanny had been barred from the Palace for a decade - a shame, since she was an ardent royalist.
    “She thrives.” What else could he say?
    “It’s been lovely, but I must find my husband. We don’t want a diplomatic incident.”
    “Maybe you should get a set of reins.”
    “A muzzle might be more fitting. See you, sooner rather than later.”
    Game old bird. The monarchy would go to pot when she died. He checked his watch. A quarter of an hour left. If he sat tight and didn’t make eye contact -
    “BWAH HA HA!”
    The impulse not to look up was stronger than ever. As he sat in the corner and nursed a glass of appleade, he heard the Mayor boom like profane thunder.
    “Him, him - what about him?”
    “Undoubtedly.” The fusty voice belonged to Prince Wulfric, Lux’s oldest and most objectionable man. “They say he has a casting couch for men.”
    “At his age? - Prime filly, four o’clock. Phwooarr.”
    The Prince echoed it. “Talking of shirt lifters, Quentin Bullen’s got the widget cornered.”
    “Poor bot! I had to sit through one of his shows. Spunk: A Love Story . I don’t mind if they keep to themselves, but some of these buggers have to rub it in your face.”
    “They can’t help it, Jerry. You can always tell. Take Bullen. You can smell the bum juice on him.”
    “There must be someone who - Ah! The very man!” Jerry bobbed